Nameless
by CallMeHush
Summary: What if not all the little sisters Jack saved made it to the surface? An account of a girl who is forced to grow up in the world's most dangerous city without the mental conditioning to help her. One-shot looking at slightly different kind of Big Sister


**Written simply because after playing the second game, all I wanted was to be a Big Sister. Those bitches are bad ass. And so I thought it would be interesting to explore what things were like from their perspective, minus the crazed brainwashing of Sofia Lamb.**

**I hope you enjoy and please review to let me know what you think!**

…

I don't have a name. At least, I don't remember ever having one. I suppose, there is no need for a name, when there is no one there to call you by it. The little ones call me 'Big Sister' but I don't like that. I think I dislike it so much because they call the _others_ 'Big Sister' too. The ones who may dress like me and fight like me, but they can barely call themselves human any more. The ones who spent their entire childhood thinking they lived in a paradise, only to grow older believing that it was their duty to protect such a place. The ones who feel so lost without their huge metal daddies they instead worship a controlling bitch who goes by the name of Sofia Lamb.

No, I am not a 'Big Sister'. Although I may have been one. If it wasn't for a man, a strange man who often appears in my dreams, only the image of the chain tattoo on his wrist remaining clear in my memory. He did something for me that changed me, woke me up from the brain washed state I'd been living in. He had told me to find a doctor, a very special doctor who would help me. But I had been so scared of my startling new surroundings, so confused in this terrifying city that I had become lost within the vent network, searching and crying for the special doctor. When I did find the safe house the man had spoke of, the place was empty. Abandoned toys and dirty pink dresses littered the floor. They had gone without me.

But I learnt to survive. I learnt that if I could find myself a big daddy, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference between me and the other girls. They protected me as I pretended to harvest bodies, when really I was gathering supplies. Stealing money from the corpses and using it to buy food in the vending machines before crawling back into the vents and sleeping at the safe house. As I grew older, I learnt to fight. I sought out weapons and trained myself into using them, reloading them and eventually upgrading them with machinery I found lying around the city. But soon I realised it wasn't going to be enough.

Turning to ADAM seemed as though I was going against all that I had fought for. But I was only 16 years old in a city full of homicidal Splicers and I was tired of constantly hiding away. So I did the only thing I thought I could. I found an old syringe and plunged it into a corpse, drawing out the blood slowly with shaking hands. When I took my first gulp, I gagged, the hunger I had once felt towards such a thing gone many years ago. But I persisted, and after drinking the whole bottle I sat and waited. And sure enough, something happened inside of me. The slug that had lay sedated for 8 years within my stomach grew active once more with the taste of ADAM on its lips.

And so I was reborn. With all the ADAM I could ever want I grew stronger and faster with each tonic, more deadly with each Plasmid. And now, 18 years old and 10 years after I was woken into reality, I am the one the Splicer's fear and not the other way round.

But I do not use my power to grovel at the feet of Rapture's new ruler. I use it to help. And, ten years after she left me behind in this city, the doctor has returned. Dr Tenenbaum was surprised when I approached her, admitting that I wanted to help her save the young girls, to make sure they do not share the same future as mine. But she was grateful all the same.

Yet here I am, bruised and battered, weary and collapsed on the floor, thinking that maybe I have bitten off more than I can chew. The drip drip dripping of water into a puddle is loud by my ear, but there is a louder sound above it all. Footsteps, heavy and quick vibrate the ground I lie on and I roll over to see through the reddish glass of my helmet the thundering outline of a Big daddy heading towards me. He groans an angry metallic roar and for a moment I consider letting him reach me. Maybe if I just let him drill my pathetic broken body to the floor the pain would end. But reality kicks back in and with my bones screaming in agony at me, I push myself to my hands and knees, leaping out of the way seconds before the big daddy crashes forward, hitting instead the glass wall with tremendous force. The glass fractures slightly but does not break and I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that my oxygen tank was running low.

Not wanting to waste a second of time I pull myself to my feet and hurl a wave of fireballs in his direction, each one hitting with tremendous force and heat. I run, my heavy boots hitting the ground with a solidity that pleases me. But then I jump, a range of spliced tonics helping me reach extraordinary heights and I fall to rest on top of a water fountain, clutching the crumbling statue of an angels wing beneath my gloved hand. With my other hand I reach behind my back and pull out the shotgun I have attached. The others would normally have a cage there for the little ones. But a cage seems slightly barbaric to me, a shotgun has much more use.

I aim the barrel at the big daddy, flailing in the flames whilst his little sister screams and cries for her protector. I pull the trigger and the bullets clang of the metal of his suit as he roars at me in fury. I fire again and again, but he knows where I am now and has started to tear at the water fountain with his drill, making me lose my balance and fall into the pool of water below. I resurface and realise I have lost my gun so instead I turn to the approaching big daddy and leap, landing neatly on top of his helmet. He shakes and grasps at me as I hold my arm high, aiming the long piercing needle attached to it at the slim gap where his helmet joins his suit. If I could just get it right I could stab him right through. But he is moving too much and in a moment of terror I realise he has grabbed my leg, the buckles holding my suit together bruise my skin against the weight of his hand. He heaves and there is a moment of perfect peace as I fly through the air, the room whizzing past the dirty glass of my helmet.

And then impact hit. The glass wall collided with the oxygen tank on my back, making me cry out in pain before I slumped to the floor, the metal of my needle clanging against the tiles. I thought about running, about giving up and returning to the safe house to recover. I even thought about dying. But those thoughts were suddenly banished by the sound of cracking. I turned, my body aching and bleeding, to see the smallest of cracks on the glass wall branch out from where I had been thrown, eventually meeting the cracks previously made by the big daddy. But they did not stop, and I knew I only had seconds left.

I scrambled to my feet, and started to run, heading straight for the big daddy, who sent his drilling spinning in anticipation. However, I was fast, and before he knew it, I had darted around him, scooping up his little sister in my arms and heading towards the door. The glass broke with a thundering crash and a wall of murky water was flung into the room. The big daddy was submerged instantly and I held the screaming little girl close as I tried to outrun the wave to the door. I ran through the doorway and only too late realised that the automatic locking system was broken. The door was not going to close behind us.

I turned, holding the little sister in one arm and with as much strength as I could muster, pushed back the oncoming wave using telekinesis. The water swelled and bubbled against the force of my plasmid, stopping it from crashing through the door and onto us. The girl cried and clutched tightly to my arm but I knew that I was running out of EVE. I could feel myself become weaker each second.

"Listen to me!" I cried and the little sister jumped, shocked that I could speak, so unlike all her other 'Big Sisters'. Her dirty yellow eyes turned in my direction, shiny with tears and wide with terror. "I need you to close the door manually! See the switch? Go pull the switch!" I cried in desperation dropping the little girl to the floor as a headache pulsated behind my eyes from the strain of the plasmid use. The little girl whimpered, scared of how close the manual switch was to the swell of furious water. "You can do it!" I cried as one last attempt and the little girl stepped closer to the switch. She took another step, and then another, slowly reaching with trembling hands for the large metal switch.

I felt my strength leave me, the force from my plasmid failed and just as she pulled the switch down, water gushed around my knees, stopping only when the door slid downwards, locking the rest of the water out. I stumbled slightly and leant heavily against the wall, the water draining out as it travelled further along the corridor. I felt dizzy and weak and I hurt everywhere. Suddenly a voice brought my senses back round.

"Well done Big Sister! We did it together!" The little sister smiled, her pink dress soaked through and clinging to her bare, dirty legs. I smiled back, although I knew she wouldn't be able to see through my helmet. Then I held out my hand to her and she grasped it tightly, humming a tune to the echoing beat of our footsteps. She didn't have a name, and neither did I. But for that moment, I don't think either of us really cared.


End file.
